


Puppy Love

by Creme13rulee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 19:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17106761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme13rulee/pseuds/Creme13rulee
Summary: Despite what Yakov would say, Makkachin is well trained. She can dance, she can walk without a leash. She knows exactly when to hug and when to lay by the bed, and she hasn’t peed inside since she was six months old.Yes, Makkachin is well trained. She is trained to give kisses, and, Viktor will say next year-- finding soulmates.





	Puppy Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heckingturtles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckingturtles/gifts).



It all began on a  early spring day in New York.  Viktor had been invited to an ice show  the same week his university advertised a semester abroad. It all happened perfectly-- the money from the ice show funding a few months abroad during the off season.  Classes were over for the week, so Viktor decided that Makkachin deserved a walk in Central Park. It was an unseasonably nice day, sunny. It would be a mistake not to go on a walk.

 

Makkachin danced excitedly at “walkies”, though she followed closely behind once they entered the park.

 

That is, until she didn’t.

 

She ran ahead, barreling down an innocent stranger walking the opposite way. They fell to the damp grass together, Makkachin’s paws pinning him down as she licked his face vehemently.

 

“Makka! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Viktor whipped his head around, hoping there wasn’t a police officer nearby. Technically this wasn’t an off-leash park, but Viktor had gotten out of a ticket once before.

 

The stranger was laughing. Laughing and scratching Makkachin’s ears in the perfect spot, her hind leg bouncing in perfect rhythm.

 

The man sat up-- Makkachin only slid down his body to perch in his lap, licking at his chin.

His fashion taste was horrible--- but his face was  _ beautiful.  _  Underneath a plain black beanie and a coat two sizes too big for the man are sparkling brown eyes and perfect eyebrows. Viktor felt his heart stutter, then sink as fat tears rolled down the strangers cheeks.

 

“Are you hurt? I’m so sorry-- she think’s shes a puppy, she’s never done this before.” Viktor was so nervous that his accent came in thick.

 

“It’s okay. Okay.” The beautiful stranger sniffled, rubbing the tears off his soft cheeks. “It’s… I just.. I miss my dog. She looks like him, except… Bigger.”

 

“What’s his name?” Viktor smiled, and he can feel his true, heart-shaped smile on his lips. Not the polite media smile.

 

“V--Victor.”

“Ah, how do you know my name?” Viktor smiled wider. The man flinched, as if startled and shook his head vehemently.

 

“M-my dog. Victor. My dog’s name. But.. but we called him  Vicchan… because… Japan.” His voice grew quieter and quieter, his warm brown eyes dropping to the ground.  “He died a couple weeks ago..” A louder, wetter sniffle escaped from the stranger, and Viktor heart snapped in two.

 

“I know a dog-friendly cafe close to here. Why don’t we go there? I owe you, after all.” Viktor’s word tumbled out of his mouth without much thought. “I’m Viktor. Nikiforov.” He added quickly, sticking out his hand. The strangers eyes grew wider, his cheeks flushed an a adorable dark pink.

 

“Ka--Yuuri. Yuuri Katsuki. Y--y- I… I’m a big fan.”

 

“Oh?” Viktor tilted his head to the side. His smile won’t fade. “Not a lot of people here know who I am.”

 

Yuuri snorted. “That’s stupid, you’re a five time world champion, at the top of the sport. The grand prix final just happened in Lake Placid.  They have to be ignorant not to notice you.”

 

“Ah, so you’re a skating fan?” Yuuri took Viktor’s hand, and he helped pull him to his feet. Makkachin rested her chin on Yuuri’s hip, her tail wagging happily.

 

“Um. Yes. And a skater. I’m training under Celestino Cialdini…” Yuuri scratches the back of his head, his gorgeous eyes focused on the pine needle laden ground.

 

“I know of him. Isn’t he based in Detroit? Is that close by?” Viktor hummed, tapping his chin with a finger.

 

“N-n-no. I’m here with a friend. I kind of… have been a mess… so my friend borrowed a car and we...drove here. It was ten hours.”

 

“Why New York?” Viktor brushed a few pine needles off of Yuuri’s coat. 

  
  


His cheeked burned brighter. “We...we went to see your ice show.”  Yuuri bowed his head, fingers curling into Makkachin’s fur.

 

“That was last weekend.”

 

“Phichit  broke the car.” Yuuri’s lips pursed into a straight line.  “So we had to wait for his parents to wire money over, and then figure out how to get it fixed.”

“That… sounds stressful.”

 

“Phichit tries. He really does… but its been a lot.. And I needed to be alone.”

 

“Oh.” Viktor stopped mid-strike. “Sorry, I can--”

 

“No no no! Please!” Yuuri flailed, grabbing the lapels at the front of Viktor’s coat. “Stay. I… I need this.” Yuuri’s hands shook. “I’m sorry I’m so weird. But you’ve been my idol for years. You’re the reason I started competing skating.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I can be alone later.”

 

“Did you name your dog after me?” Viktor grinned.

 

“Let’s go get coffee.” Yuuri mumbled, neither denying nor confirming. Makkachin followed Yuuri without a second thought, abandoning Viktor like a de-stuffed chew toy.

 

“I’d love to.” Viktor said, forgetting entirely that he was the one who invited Yuuri.   Viktor lags behind a few steps, admiring Yuuri’s skater anatomy, until he realized that Yuuri didn’t know where to go.

 

The cafe has a bowl of water outside and paw-print carpet inside. It’s the only cafe Viktor has ever stepped into in New York outside of the university campus he is studying at.  He was guilty of spending more time here than the library though. It’s hard not to, when there is a corner piled high with dog beds and human cushions.

 

“What can I get you?” Viktor can’t tear his eyes away from Yuuri. With his coat hanging on the back of a chair, Viktor can admire his shoulders, his narrow waist and strong thighs. His hair is ink black and wild with hat-hair. He is effortlessly beautiful, and Viktor is sure models spend hours trying to look like him. A handsome man who is beautiful but looks awfully ignorant of chapstick.

 

“Uhm.. Black coffee? That’s probably the only thing on  my diet plan.”

 

“What do you  _ want  _ though?” Viktor clasped his hands around Yuuri’s. “Tell me your favorite.”

 

The blush on Yuuri’s cheeks came back full force. “C-c-c-caramel… macchiato?” He stuttered. Makkachin let out a soft boof, telling off her daddy for making her new friend so out of sorts.

 

“I mean, I’m not really following my diet plan anymore, I was planning on retiring anyway.” Yuuri babbled, and the words stop Viktor in his tracks.

 

“Retire?” The air was sucked out of his lungs, and although he’s only been by this mans side for twenty minutes, something  inside him wants Yuuri to do anything but retire.

“I mean, I did terrible at the Grand Prix Final, and I bombed nationals. I’m only here because I need to finish my degree.” Yuuri replied, his voice low.

 

“Don’t.” Viktor said softly, earning back Yuuri’s gaze. “One more season? Victor wouldn’t want you to give up.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed in confusion.  

 

“I… I wouldn’t want you either.” Viktor added, clearing his throat. “I’d like to skate with you.”

 

“I already talked to my coach.” Yuuri mumbled, his fingers fidgeting against each other.

 

“I’ll coach you.” Viktor said eagerly. He didn’t regret the words tumbling out with thought. Not when it earned that look from Yuuri. It had been twenty minutes, but Viktor was hungry for a lifetime more.  “I mean. I can’t leave you. Makkachin would be heart broken.”

As if on cue, Makkachin let out another boof before trotting over to the counter for a milkbone.

 

“You don’t have to do all this. Makkachin didn’t even hurt me. I like dogs.”

 

“ I like you.”  Viktor swallowed. Something about this boy made him filterless. Filter-free, eager and incredibly gay.

 

“I’ve… liked you for years..” Yuuri whispered, jumping when Viktor laughed. He hadn’t meant to say it loud enough to be heard, but it was too late.

 

“Then theres no problem, right?” Viktor lifted his shoulders. “You can pay me back for the coffee by skating next season.”

 

“T-t-hats not what I said.” Yuuri stuttered.

 

“I’ll help you out and coach you. I need a change of scenery, after all. That’s why I’m still here.”

 

“That’s a lot--a lot to promise.” Yuuri trailed Viktor to the counter, waiting while he ordered two caramel macchiatos.

 

“It’ll be a nice surprise. Stop trying to talk me out of it. Yakov will tell you I’m a very stubborn man.” Viktor smiled, handing Yuuri his paper cup.

 

Yuuri’s fingers curled around it, his dark lashes sweeping his cheek as he avoided Viktor’s gaze again. “I don’t want to…”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Talk you out of it.”

 

“Good. You won’t. Now, tell me about your skating.” Viktor led them to a table, Makkachin getting up from her spot in the corner to curl up on their feet.

 

Yes, Makkachin is very well trained. She can walk without a leash. She can walk down an aisle in a perfect line, carrying flowers. She can tolerate a ring pillow tied around her neck. She can walk and not bowl down her  new dad, one year and six months after the first time she saw him. She is, after all well trained by Viktor. Even if Viktor doesn’t understand what he trained her for.


End file.
